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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586724">Marigold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glassymwah/pseuds/Glassymwah'>Glassymwah</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Crushes, DNF, Fluff and Humor, Freeform, Happy Ending, Insecurity, Light Angst, Long phone calls, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Short &amp; Sweet, They Are Idiots, They are trying okay, dreamnotfound, mlm, slight slowburn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:54:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,695</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586724</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glassymwah/pseuds/Glassymwah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>George has always wondered what this mysterious blonde boy has looked like under that characterized mask of his.</p><p>Lucky for him, he gets into way more than just a face reveal</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Gold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! This is my first time writing a dnf fanfiction, it's been a while since I wrote any kind of writing fanfic. Anyway, might be slow updates, but I'm excited to continue and finish this for sure. Please don't share this with them lmao, I don't wanna make them uncomfortable. I don't ship them as real people, I live for their dynamic. Criticism, simple comments are all welcome! I love getting little comments from people, it's very motivating :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>George has always wondered what this mysterious blonde boy has looked like under that characterized mask of his. </p><p>The brunette has always loved to observe things and being unable to observe Dream was like a constant prod to his buzzing mind. Did he actually have bright blonde, golden hair? Or viridescent enrapturing pools? Or--Or, milky skin painted with dusty freckles? Or was this just his hazy daydreams shaping Dream’s face for him. He couldn't hold his imagination back, it festered in his mind like a plague. </p><p>Sweltering heat sunk into Dream’s room, making his fingers bathe in sweat and his body steep with the hot temperatures. The boy wasn’t fond of the heat, especially when editing; completely adamant with focus on finishing the video he was currently on top of. What broke that unhinged focus was the ding that rang in his ears from his phone. </p><p>He strayed his gaze from the blinding screen of the computer and leaned back, scrolling through his phone. He hunched over at the sight of the discord notification, George had texted him. He beamed at the sight, the raw heat fading from his mind. </p><p>“What do you look like?” Dream blankly stiffened at the text George sent him, rereading it over and over like there was some meaning to be stripped of these five words. </p><p>“Why? Doesn’t the fanart give you some idea of my appearance? Not satisfied with it?” Dream retorts playfully, keeping his screen keen in his sight.<br/>
“No. Just describe it to me.” Brash and simple words, straight to the point. Bold is the word that piles up in Dream’s mind. Too bold? Uncharacteristically bold? He wasn’t sure.</p><p>“Well…” He starts to type, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He briefly stares at his reflection casted on his dark monitor, squinting a little, trying to highlight some main features. But still, his thoughts can't help but stray a little. Why was George so suddenly intent on knowing exactly what his face looked like? He puts his phone down for a moment, letting it thump against his desk. He turns the brightness up on his computer, adjusting his vision on the screen with a couple of straining blinks. He'd rather just list things off from memory than stare at himself and pinpoint things based on his reflection. Once again, he lets his phone light flicker on, still showing the fresh notification eagerly. He picks up his phone once more. </p><p>“Dirty blonde hair, pale skin, green eyes, and slight freckles lol.”</p><p>“Really?” George’s reply is quicker than he’d like.</p><p>“Yes, do you want specific face measurements or smth?” Dream chuckles under his breath, finding his own taunts against George a bit amusing.</p><p>“No, just seems idk, weird.”</p><p>Weird, the word echoes in his mind, he can’t seem to grasp why George chose the word ‘weird’ out of any other. He pauses on his typing, seeing if George adds an explanation or just a better word, a clear meaning. Nothing. He won’t ask though, even if he feels the need for George to clarify. Almost as if he expected something more intimate.</p><p>“Okay, if you’re that curious you should’ve just asked.” </p><p>“But I did?” George is puzzled by Dream’s wording.</p><p>“For a photo.” Dream hesitated on sending that, his fingers melting against the phone's surface. His face feels like it’s dripping, completely basked in the heat, and his phone’s bright screen. His face was scorching, furiously flustered at his own confident words. He can see the typing notification halt. It starts up again a few seconds later like George was also affected by these negligent seeming words. </p><p>“I doubt you would send one.” Doubt huh? That was a mistake because it raised the competitive twist in Dream like vile, the one that’s rash and overtaken by feelings of pride. Dream pulls up the camera on his phone, biting his lip anxiously, suddenly rushed and overwhelmed. He snaps a picture, but it's of his nose, and below, his eyes are hidden but his jaw is curved and lined with the light from his computer screen. His flushed face is visible, his lips parted and his collarbone is perking from his shirt. Just a plain black tee. His hair falls on his face, curved and layered, unkempt but dirty and muted gold. It curves along his neck, long, as he mentioned before. You couldn’t see his freckles, they were shadowed with the darkness of his room, but his phone screen was enough to light up the most important features of him. He doesn’t show his entire face, as if it was something to earn. He’s always been obscure like that.</p><p>He stares at it, not quite convinced, the same face he’s watched change for years. He’s not ashamed, just unfamiliar with the sense of hesitation. What motivates him to send it is the longing of him wanting to hear George compliment his face. But what is he kidding, George would probably just say “nice,” and move on. But he wants to be idealistic for once.</p><p>He sends it.</p><p>“Call me.” George types, Dream’s throat goes dry and he swallows the humid air, feeling heavy and out of breath. The response was unexpected and not to mention, wracking his brain with questions. As soon as Dream heard the call ringtone buzz in his ears, his head pounded, his body going rigid, and his heart wouldn't stop reminding him of how nerve-wracking this was.</p><p>He lets it ring, he lets it haunt him before answering at the last few lingering seconds.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Heat Of You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dream is a big tease and George is a mess</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it's moving a bit slow but it'll be worth it in the end trust me! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>George’s attention is attached to this photo; he can’t keep his eyes off it. He takes a moment to turn up the brightness on his phone, now relishing even more features of his friend that were shadowed by the gloom of his screen. Nearly feeling timid by the undertones, his mind was applying to this photo. Heat was consuming his face at this point, clamping a hand to his mouth. Shame crept up on, tormenting his every little thought. His gaze is faltering from each crevice, each small detail. The way his jaw curved, the way his golden locks peaked at his neck. In the spur of the moment, he found little dull dimples and stray freckles. God what was wrong with him.</p><p>On impulse, he texted Dream to call him, his jaw set. The awaiting moments for Dream to pick up felt like minutes, hours. His mind raced but halted as soon as he picked up, leaving him utterly speechless. The silence continued, leaving them weak to words. </p><p>“Well? What do you think, George?” Dream tardily pipes up, his tone is vulnerable, but watered down jocularly. </p><p>“You’re…” George pauses, not reasoning about his choice of wording and instead being impetuous. “Breathtaking.” </p><p>George grinds his teeth together, wishing he bit his tongue back. He shouldn’t have said that. His skin boils, the sound of his heart deafening.</p><p>Dream feels like he’s overheating all over, winded by the abrupt genuine compliment from George. This tide of warmth won’t stop drowning him; he’s substantially melting. </p><p>“I never expected that from you, so thank you, George.” His name rolls off his tongue perfectly, his tone laced with saccharine. </p><p>“It’s whatever, we’re friends so it’s normal.” George recovers, but it doesn’t feel like he’s won, it feels like he’s suffocating in disappointment. </p><p>Dream’s face fell upon hearing those words, a deep stinging pressed against his temples. Claws of pain twisting into haunting ambiguity. What the hell did he mean by that? </p><p>“Yeah, normal.” He mumbles, his voice is taut. So normal that it feels like I'm being scorched by ten suns. He chided in his mind tediously. George detects a bit of edge to his tone, eyes boring onto his discord tab.<br/>Dream makes out a wispy breath from the other, a slight jitter to it, thus changing the topic.</p><p>“You streaming today? We can probably hop on with Sapnap and play some Minecraft, per usual.” Dream has already sunk into the depths of his chair, his fingers curling toward his palms.</p><p>“Mh, maybe.” The brunette ponders, his mind shifting to another stress. </p><p>“I mean you stream like, once a month, might as well.” Dream’s tone is more lighthearted and humorous, earning an amused but indignant huff from George. </p><p>“I do not!” He pauses, checking the dates from which he streamed at with rapid clicks following close behind. “Okay maybe I do, but to be fair I’m a busy guy, Dream.” </p><p>“Oh come on, busy? With what?” He snickers, amused by his ‘defense’. </p><p>“With you and your videos, I feature in, dream!” He presumably could’ve worded that better. </p><p>“Oh my, I must be such a handful.” Dream wheezes, clearly tantalizing the hell out of him as much as he can. </p><p>“Oh shut up, Dream.”</p><p>“Make me.” Dream snaps right back, grinning ear to ear. He’s completely hunched over his desk, anticipating his reaction.</p><p>“I will if you don't stop it right now.” George pipes up after a hesitant response. Knowing Dream’s pervicacious attitude, he wouldn’t hold there. </p><p>“Kiss me and ill shut up.” His tone is silvery, it rumbles deep in George’s mind, making his heart pound.</p><p>“I’m leaving, goodnight Dream.” George’s mouse hovers over the end call button, he despises how he halts, he hates how he reconsiders it. But his face is sizzling, too flustered to withstand the temperature bunching in his cheeks.</p><p>“Geoorgee! Come onn!” He whines pitifully. The screen wavers and promptly George isn’t there. He senses something is missing, he is already yearning after George’s presence like a lovestruck fool. </p><p>George :((. He texts, physically pouting at his phone as if George can see him.</p><p>Go to bed Dream, we can stream tomorrow. George responds rather briskly, Dream perks up, idiotically elated by his simple response. </p><p>Fine, fine, goodnight! He types quickly.</p><p>Dream’s attention is glued to his phone screen, rereading their string of text messages over and over, hoping for even a simple response. Nothing. He groans, letting his phone slip out of his hand. It fumbles against the desk while he covers his face, dragging his hands against his cheeks. </p><p>He needs to get it together.</p>
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